Mosaic of a Broken Heart
by NewTwilightFan
Summary: Bella doesn't let people in easily. When she does, she commits absolutely - to family, to friends, to love. With a blossoming career and a fiance she adores, there isn't much more she expects out of life. Then, a crushing revelation derails her dreams and fractures her sense of self. Gluing the pieces back together isn't easy when you can't find them all.
1. The Drop

Bella squinted her eyes against the elevator's harsh fluorescent lights to check her wavering reflection one more time. She was thankful that her friend Alice had both a sense of fashion _and_ fashion sense. The heather-gray Jersey cotton wrap dress had traveled much better than expected. Thanks to a quick pit-stop in the airport bathroom before her cab ride here, nobody would be able to tell that she had just weathered a three-hour flight from Seattle packed between hordes of rabid football fans.

With the holidays in full swing and the playoff season just around the corner, Seattle fans were rushing to Chicago to watch them face off against the Bears this coming Sunday. The challenge and expense of amending her itinerary almost made her reconsider her decision to extend her normal 3-day weekend visit to a whole week. However, Mike hadn't been able to visit last month due to obligations with work, and she was starved for some real time together; movie nights, take out dinners on the couch, coffee before work and the lazy Saturday mornings in bed like the ones they used to spend together during college.

She had tapped into her rainy-day account to prepare for the trip, wanting to make it special and memorable for both of them. Her heart took a few double beats in anticipation of Mike's reaction to her surprise. They had planned for him to pick her up from O'Hare at lunch time on Thursday. Instead, she had reservations for a Tuesday night dinner at Shaw's Crab House and then, if the weather held, they could take a walk along the Navy Pier. Of course, if it was too windy they could come back here and spend the evening in bed. She would take either option. Or both.

She hadn't alerted Mike to her change of plans. She hadn't told him about any of the ideas that were percolating in her head. The truth was, the months of separation and increasingly stilted phone calls were taking their toll. Even before their engagement nine months ago she was seriously considering looking for local job prospects. Now, having experienced almost three years of jet-lagged weekends and too-short vacations, she was ready to take the leap and unite her life with his in every way that mattered. If she moved to Chicago, they could move up the wedding plans instead of waiting for Mike's boss to finally grant him the promotion and transfer to the Seattle office that he'd been dangling in front of him for the last two years. While living together in Seattle would have been ideal, being with him again was what she really wanted. They would regain their lazy Saturday mornings _and_ every day in between.

Bella knew it would hurt to leave her friends, move further from her Dad and give up all the progress she had made at McCarthy Commercial Partners. Emmett McCarthy was set to inherit the four-generation real estate development firm and had taken her on as a green-behind-the-ears college intern. Now, only three and a half years after graduation, she was a lead project manager. She knew that her rate of promotion was far faster than the norm and was due in large part to her friendship with Emmett and his wife, Rosalie. However, being part of a thriving family-owned company and tackling the challenges of her position had forced her to grow in ways she had never anticipated.

If she was being totally honest with herself, she knew the reason she hadn't spoken to Mike about moving to Chicago yet was because she could already anticipate his response and knew how much it would hurt. He was never happy about her decision to stay behind in Seattle after graduation. Neither of them had wanted the strain of a long distance relationship and Mike had gone so far as to remind her that his Chicago offers were much stronger than her prospects so she probably wouldn't even have to work. Having fought so hard to lay the groundwork for a career she could be proud of, she knew it would tear her up inside to take a step back or away. Her fear that any part of him might feel vindicated by her decision to walk away from it all would only make the pain burn deeper.

But not as much as it would hurt to lose Mike, she thought.

From freshman study partners to dating their junior year, he had always been so sweet and fun. Their relationship didn't have quite the fire and spontaneity of Alice's train of passionate love affairs, or the fierce, single-minded devotion she saw between Emmett and Rosalie, but there was such warmth, comfort and trust between her and Mike that she couldn't stand spending so much time away from him.

The chime of the elevator broke through her reverie. The elevator doors opened to reveal the 17th floor foyer which included a small sitting area in front of an electric hearth. Floor-to ceiling windows on either end of the hall gave her a breathtaking view of the evening skyline and dazzling city lights. She adjusted the strap of her purse and settled her coat more comfortably over her arm before grabbing the handle of her suitcase and wheeling it across the plush sitting area. This was her first visit since Mike moved into his new apartment six weeks earlier and she was impressed. The earth-toned décor was simple and clean with charcoal sketches of local architecture lining the walls. The entire area had an easy, reassuring feel.

Bella stopped in front Of #1703 and took a deep breath before raising her hand to knock. In the quiet between the exhalation of her last breath and her knuckles striking the wood, an unfamiliar sound made her freeze. At first, she was sure she had the wrong door, but she had mailed several care packages here and the address was clear in her mind. There it was again. . . a rich, feminine laugh, only this time it was echoed by one so familiar that her heart throbbed with a sudden, tearing pain.


	2. Impact

"Mike, let go. I'm starving. Mmmm. Baby, please. . . After we eat, I promise."

"Oh, Jess. I'm hungry, too. Come here. Come back here and give me another taste."

"Eww, Mike. Stop. Stop! I'm hungry for pizza and it'll be here any second."

While she knew Mike's voice so well, the gruff tone and sex-laden words were so unfamiliar that she began to question her sense of reality. He sounded like a different person. Frozen there at his door, an unwelcome witness to his infidelity, she desperately wished she had told him she was coming early. At least it would have saved her from this horrific discovery. And now what should she do? Go back home? Call him and challenge him over the phone? Confront him now?

With her throat closed tight around her hurt and denial, Bella struck the door four times with her fist. A squeak of alarm and another giggle followed.

"See? I told you it would be here any second!" The door swung open revealing a cute, curvy girl still in the act of tying on a pink silk robe. The girl called over her shoulder before really looking at Bella, "Babe, can you grab the cash from the kitchen counter? Wait a minute. Who are you? Are you lost?"

Unable to find her voice, Bella just shook her head. Across the living room she watched Mike, her Mike, swipe some cash off the counter. His blond hair was a mess, like it was when he'd just toweled off after a shower. In partially unbuttoned jeans and nothing else, she could see his body was leaner and more toned than the last time she saw him. He looked more like he did in college before long work hours and the stress of his high-profile marketing job took their toll on him. He looked like the Mike she'd fallen so hard for years ago.

Their eyes met and he went rigid with shock. "Bella? What are you. . . Why? I thought I was picking you up day after tomorrow? How. . .?"

His jumbled words, her own confusion and the rapid questions from 'Jess', became a tangled whirlwind of noise in her ears. Her vision seemed to narrow into a tunnel of gray and she felt her legs collapse.

"Are you cheating on me?" The words came out like a whispered sob.

A few gasping breaths later she cried, "Are you cheating on me, Mike?" He continued staring at her with his mouth gaping.

Louder now, the unfamiliar flavor of anger crept into her tone. "Tell me!"

"I wanted to tell you, I just didn't know how. I don't think I want to get married. . ."

His discomfort was obvious, from his wavering voice to his shuffling feet. Bella could hear the other girl yelling at both of them, but the words themselves were unintelligible. She was searching Mike's face for something, some clue as to why he had wanted to do this, choosing to abandon their dreams, their plans and their entire future together. She had been ready to sacrifice everything for him because just having him was going to be enough for her. And now, what did she have?

He was woven into every part of her heart. She considered him before every decision. Her life had been transformed when she chose to love him and she could never reverse all that she knew, felt, and dreamed with him. She couldn't move forward to tomorrow. Her tomorrow no longer existed. Her now was something unrecognizable.

And it hurt. So much. Her lungs were burning for oxygen but she couldn't seem to breathe. Her heart was pounding fast. So fast. In her ears and in her throat. Oh, God, it hurt.

Bella felt as if her skin were blistering and bleeding. Every nerve was firing at once and her mind couldn't keep up. Bursts of heat danced like crimson pinwheels behind her eyes, making her gasp and wobble.

The heel of her right boot was digging into the back of her left thigh. Somehow that simple discomfort grounded her. The new pain was so loud and fast and coarse that she couldn't process it. But plain old physical pain was comforting. Rather than shifting her foot, she pressed her left thigh harder against the edge of the heel until the scrape of jagged plastic against tender skin began to cut through the chaos.

Through the fog of pain and disillusionment several thoughts rang clear:

She had a father who would sacrifice anything just to see her happy and taken care of.

She had friends who loved her.

She had a life in Seattle.

That would be enough. It would have to be. Somehow she would make it enough. After all, Mike wasn't giving her any other choice. Part of her wanted to curl into herself and around the fierce knot of pain in her belly. Another part, a part she didn't recognize, was pulsing with the heat of a foreign emotion.

It was dark and burned like ice. But it was fierce and strong. It beckoned.

She wanted to hate him. For his lies. For his cowardice. For destroying their future. Hating him would be so easy.

"Jessica, please. I didn't tell you because I was going to break it off with her this weekend. I didn't want to hurt you. You're everything to me. Baby, believe me, it's been over between us for so long, we were just too stuck in the habit of being together to realize it."

Mike's pleading tone and Jessica's sobs sank into Bella's consciousness. Her eyes were blurred with unshed tears and her throat felt as raw as if she'd been screaming for hours. But she knew she hadn't made a sound. From her position of the floor Bella watched Jessica sink into Mike's arms and he rocked her from side to side, stroking her curly brown hair and whispering to her.

A cold snake of rage twisted in the pit of her stomach. He'd held her like that and comforted her when she'd lost her mother to breast cancer during her second year of college. They weren't even dating then and he had stayed with her and held her in her narrow bed with all the lights on until she could sleep through the night again. For more than two weeks he had smoothed away the knife-edged pain of her loss and comforted her as she grieved. It had been the turning point in their friendship; the defining moment that made her sure it was safe to let him into her closest held emotions. Only her father held a larger piece of her heart. And now she was just an old habit to him? A worn out relationship left over from his college days?

Her anger roiled inside until she felt it fill her core with white-hot steel. She pulled herself back to her feet and felt the anger possess her from her scalp to her toes. Caught off guard by the sudden movement, Mike's eyes whipped back to her in alarm. Something in her expression must have scared him because he rocked back a step. Seeing that gave her an odd jolt of pleasure.

"I think I should go now. Bye, Mike. I wish you all that you deserve. Nothing more, nothing less."

She found it easier than she expected to smile at him as she turned to leave, her suitcase wheels dragging twin snake-tracks from his apartment back to the elevator. The elevator chimed and the doors opened just as she got there. The pizza delivery boy gave her a startled look as he walked past her. She understood why once the doors closed.

Her reflection was unrecognizable from just 10 minutes earlier. Her eyes gleamed with tears, framed by red rims and too-white skin. Her cheeks were flushed to a chaotic crimson by the blood of her rage. Even as fair-skinned as she was, she'd never been a blusher. She held her emotions too tightly reined for that. But now, every trace of feeling within her rippled across her reflection in a startling display of disorder. She could sense hysteria rising and locked eyes with herself, willing her lips to stop quivering, her nostrils to relax, her brow to settle back into smooth complacency. By the time she completed her descent to the ground floor, an implacable shell enclosed her emotional turmoil and the only sign that remained was an odd brightness to her eyes.

She didn't allow herself to cry. He didn't deserve that.

* * *

A/N

I plan to update on Saturday mornings but I got this chapter ready a bit early. I figured I might as well just get it out there.

Thanks so much for reading. I'm still trying to figure out how to post/edit/format. Feedback is appreciated.

Roxy, I can't find your e-mail address because I lost my yahoo acct and had to restart it. Can you PM me? Thanks! - Maggie


	3. Damage Assessment

On the curb waiting for a cab, Bella tuned everything out except the problem immediately in front of her. It was her ability to focus single-mindedly on a challenge until she reached the solution that made her such a good project manager. Her current dilemma was simple compared to holding together real estate development deals while juggling the expectations of the city and county governments, investors and contractors.

Finding a flight home and redrawing her life's blueprints without Mike in them should be pretty straight forward. They each had their own apartments, cars, bank accounts and friends. Her heart twisted with that thought - she wasn't going to lose anything material due to him leaving her. It was the shock of the emotional meteor strike that she was going to have to work around. But not yet. Right now she just needed to get home. She could use the remaining time off from work to sanitize her apartment of anything to do with him and probably still have time for an overnight visit with her father in Forks before returning to work next Tuesday.

The chill, dry Chicago breeze flipped her hair in writhing tendrils around her face. She tied the belt of her coat snuggly around her middle and stepped to the edge of the sidewalk to hail the first in-service cab she saw. The cabby pulled up tight to the curb and hopped out to load her suitcase into the trunk.

"O'Hare departures, please," she said as she angled into the maroon-upholstered rear seat.

"I'll have you there in 18 minutes," he grinned, rubbing his hands together briskly, and pulled back into traffic. "Some evenings, it can be a real _Bear_ getting in and out of the airport. Pun intended. But the weather's been nice and dry and the roads are good, we'll have you there safe as a bug in a rug."

Bella dredged up a smile and replied, "Thanks a lot. That's reassuring. I don't want to miss my flight."

"Where are you heading?"

"Back to Seattle. It's rainy, but at least it's predictable." Small talk felt awkward so she busied herself with removing the clips from her hair and tying the wind-snarled strands into a low ponytail.

"Wooeee," the cabbie whistled, looking back at her in the rear-view mirror. "That's some rock! I bet your fiancé is quite a guy. When my wife and I got engaged, we couldn't afford two slices of bread to make a sandwich so we picked her ring out at the Goodwill store. It wasn't much, but she loved it. Still wears it, too. Woulda been nice to get her something like that, though. Dang." He shook his head with a friendly grin and rolled his eyes comically.

Bella shifted uncomfortably but thanked him and gritted her teeth to form another smile. It felt stiff and plastic but he didn't seem to notice.

"Do you have any good radio stations around here?" Maybe music would put a halt to the conversation.

"Sure do. My favorite is the classic rock station, 95.9, but my daughter likes that pop stuff. You can't be much older than her. Do you like Justin Beiber?"

"Um, no, rock is fine."

"My kinda gal!" he winked at her and turned on the radio. With a jovial whoop he launch into a bad karaoke version of American Woman, hammering out the base line on the steering wheel while Bella settled herself more comfortably into the back seat.

She caught herself twisting her ring back and forth. It was a habit she developed months ago whenever she was thinking hard or anxious. Acid burned in the back of her throat and she swallowed hard against the rising pressure in her gut. With one vicious twist she pulled the platinum band off and shoved it in her coat pocket. She didn't know what she would do with it and didn't want to think about it now. She had plans to make.

Left alone again inside her head, Bella leaned back and shut her eyes against the nauseating blur of passing lights. Cutting off her sense of sight only made the cabby's singing louder, but at least her stomach was beginning to settle down. Ticking through her required steps, Bella outlined her return trip in her head and then went back to considering her budget. Without the expense of eating out all week, she should have no trouble paying for the flight change. She could redirect the money she had been setting aside for her half of their wedding expenses and down-payment on a condominium to finish paying off her student loan balance. In about seven more months she would be debt free. Maybe she could move into a nicer apartment. Buy a car. Help her dad remodel his hideous olive-green bathroom.

She wouldn't have to run any of these decisions through Mike. She was completely independent. It felt lonely to think that. Lonely and cold. But deep within her belly the blaze of anger was still burning brightly and it warmed her.

When the cab pulled up to the terminal Bella checked the meter and handed the driver cash. She was down to less than $20 in her purse and made a mental note to find an ATM after she got her new flight sorted out.

"Thanks for the ride."

"No problem, miss. It was a pleasure. Stay warm and have a safe flight." She accepted her suitcase from him and was crossing the sidewalk when she heard him launch into another old hit before he shut the door and pulled away from the curb.

A blast of warm air greeted her when she entered the terminal. It was 7 PM and still just as crowded as when she left less than two hours earlier. She found the United check in line and joined the queue. Most of the other passengers were completing their check in at the automated terminals, but the line in front of her still moved slowly. The clock above the counter crept around steadily. Her feet were aching and she felt the first tremors of a spasm forming in her left calf muscle. It was almost 8 o'clock before Bella approached the smiling clerk. She handed over her return flight boarding pass and asked to reschedule her flight to the earliest time possible.

"Well, let me see what we can do for you, Ms. Swan. It looks like I have a couple of First Class seats available on Thursday at 4:27 in the afternoon. Or, if you prefer a morning flight, we have several seats open on Friday morning. It's a flight to LA with a short layover and then we'll have you back in Seattle by Friday evening."

"But I want to leave tonight."

"Our last flight has already boarded and we had 13 passengers on stand-by. I'm sorry ma'am, but Thursday evening is our first flight with available seats. Would you like to purchase a ticket?"

"You said it was first class. How much?"

"With the transfer fee and upgrade to first class your total will be $1127.34."

Bella cringed internally but handed over her debit card without any objection. She wanted to get out of Chicago as soon as possible but if she had to wait 40 hours it was better than being stuck in the same city as Mike and Jessica for a whole week. She knew there were several affordable hotels at the north end of the airport. Maybe she could catch a shuttle up there.

"I'm so sorry ma'am, but your card has been declined. Do you have another way to pay?"

"No. That's impossible. I have more than enough money in the account and I just used it to pay for breakfast this morning. Can you try it again?"

"I ran it through twice. Your financial institution has declined the charge. Perhaps you can contact them and work it out. If you step right over there you can call them, and just wave to me when you're ready for me to try again."

Bella felt her fingers and toes begin to go numb. The gray cloud returned to hover around her peripheral vision. She forced herself to take slow even breaths and dragged her suitcase to the end of the service counter to make her call.

Her fingers were stiff and slow as she dialed the customer service number from the back of her card. When the phone rang through to a pre-recorded message she realized just how screwed she was. Her father had helped her open her bank account at the Forks Credit Union during the summer before freshman year of high school, and she had never moved her account to a larger bank. It was after 6 PM in Forks, Washington and the credit union had been closed for more than an hour now. She wasn't going to be able to speak to anyone until tomorrow morning. Anxiety prickled her scalp and made the space between her shoulder blades itch.

Using every calming exercise she knew, Bella slowed her breathing and heart rate down until the numbness left her fingers and she could see clearly again. She spotted an ATM across the lobby and hurried to it. She swiped her card, punched in her PIN and almost bounced with relief when the normal menu options appeared. She requested a $200 cash withdrawal and agreed to the exorbitant $3.50 fee without hesitating. When the screen turned black and text appeared telling her the withdrawal was declined her control cracked.

"Shit, shit, shit. What the fuck is wrong with you?" she hissed between clenched teeth. She started the process over, praying for a different result. Denied again.

Tears were gathering in her eyes again and she swallowed hard to hold them at bay. Why didn't she have a real bank? Who cares if the big banks are evil and sapping the lifeblood from the middle class when the local banks can't even give you your money when you need it? Or she could have at least gotten a credit card to start building up her credit history like Alice suggested. Why did she insist on her own ideas of responsibility and independence? Now she was trapped in this horrible airport overnight with less than $20 in her pocket!

She was hissing expletives under her breath while shoving her useless debit card back into her wallet when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

* * *

A/N As always, thanks for reading!


	4. Rescue Operations

"I'm sorry. I don't want to intrude, but you look like you're about to disembowel that ATM in front of hundreds of witnesses and I doubt getting dragged off by airport security will improve your evening. Can I help you?"

Bella shrugged her purse higher on her shoulder and wiped away the few tears that had managed to escape. Four people were waiting in line for the ATM wearing a range of expressions from sympathy to irritated impatience. When did they get there? How long had she been cursing that damned machine? She murmured an embarrassed apology before stepping aside and looking up at the stranger. He stood several inches taller than her even with her high-heeled boots.

"Thanks. I think. No, I'm not going to go postal but I have had one of the worst days in recorded history and I can't see it getting better any time soon."

"I'm Edward, by the way. Do you want to sit down over there and maybe we can figure out which way is up?"

Unsure what other action to take, Bella shrugged and followed him to a row of black vinyl chairs where she sat down gingerly on the edge of the last chair in the row.

"So. . ." he looked at her expectantly while she fidgeted with the zipper pull of her coat pocket.

Bella returned his stare for a moment before sighing resignedly and launching into a jumbled explanation of her situation. "I'm stranded here until tomorrow morning because there's something wrong with my debit card and I really want to get the hell out of this city but my flight doesn't leave until next Monday evening and I tried to reschedule it but my stupid hick bank screwed up something with my account and I won't even be able to sort it out until tomorrow morning and I hate airport food and I was supposed to have the most amazing dinner tonight. Shit. I forgot about canceling the reservations. This just. . . SUCKS!"

"Wow. Sooo. . . If I understand you correctly, you're really fucked."

"Excuse me?" Bella looked up in surprise from digging in her purse for her phone.

"Sorry. I was paraphrasing," Edward shrugged with a wink. "Seriously, though, if the biggest problem right now is food and somewhere to stay tonight, you're in luck. I have an empty guest room at my apartment and the best pizza place in Chicago is less than two blocks from my place. Unless you have a friend here in town that could pick you up and let you crash at their place tonight."

"I. . . no. There's no one. But I really couldn't impose on you. That's just too much."

"No imposition. I was supposed to fly out today but my meeting got cancelled because the other party had a family emergency so I'm at loose ends until Friday morning. Kind of a serendipitous mishap, if you like that sort of thing."

"A serendipitous mishap? Who says that?" Bella couldn't help smiling. The hysteria was still churning just below the surface, but she wasn't feeling quite as desperate as she had moments earlier. He had a cheerful presence and it calmed her.

"Poets and over-caffeinated travelers do. Here's my idea and let me know if it works for you: Call a friend or colleague, give them my name and address so you've got someone on the outside who knows where you are and that you're okay, then we'll take a cab back into town, you can check out the guest room and decide if you're comfortable claiming it for a night, then we can bury our faces in a deep-dish pie with every topping known to man piled on top. How does that sound?"

"Crazy but awesome. But I really don't need to call anyone. I just need to let the restaurant know . . ." there she paused. Her reservation had been for 7 pm. It was over 90 minutes passed. If they were pressed for space they would have surely given the table away more than an hour ago. "Never mind. That's not a big deal. Lead the way."

"Look, I don't know your name, or who you are, or why you're here, or where you're going. But I do know that you look like you've had a hell of a day, and you probably aren't thinking and responding exactly like you normally would. I would feel more comfortable if you at least made contact with someone you trust and let them know you're okay. Here's my name and address," he said as he scrawled his information on the back of a receipt he pulled from his wallet.

Bella accepted the slip gingerly and took a moment to really look at her would-be rescuer. He appeared to be a few years older than her, maybe 30. He had auburn hair with gold highlights and the kind of angular features that normally graced the pages of fashion magazines. But where male models had an aloof and almost feminine air about them, he was warm, direct and boyishly charming. He was dressed for travel in relaxed-fit jeans and an untucked grayish-blue long-sleeved shirt. She glanced at the seat next to him where he had set his briefcase and a garment bag. He was telling the truth about traveling for business, then. But should she be driving off with a stranger to stay at his apartment? Her instincts told her she could trust him, but she was hesitant to trust her own people sense. She couldn't have missed the mark further than she had with Mike. And let's not forget that Ted Bundy was handsome, friendly, outgoing. . . and a psychotic serial killer.

Bella looked at the receipt in her lap. His handwriting was neat and balanced, walking across the paper in tidy loops and lines. Edward Masen, 2101 East Tanner Street, PH2, Chicago. He was right. The smart and responsible thing to do would be to call Alice or her dad and let them know where she was and what she was doing. But she wasn't ready for questions or explanations. She had to come to terms with her own feelings about Mike's betrayal before she could face anyone else's responses. How was she supposed to approach this? She couldn't fake a call with him sitting right next to her. Could she?

She looked up and realized he was scrolling through information on his phone, doing his best to give her a bit of privacy. A solution popped into her head and she dialed her office phone.

_Ring. Ring._

_Hello, you've reached Isabella Swan, Project Manager at McCarthy Commercial Partners. I will be out of the office starting Tuesday, December 9th and returning on Tuesday, December 16th. If this is an urgent matter, please dial zero and ask to speak with my assistant, Angela Weber. Otherwise, please leave a message with your contact information and I will get back to you when I return. Thank you._

Bella adopted a cheerful tone and did her best not to look at Edward while she left her message.

"Hey, Alice. It's Bella. Sorry I missed you. I just wanted to give you a heads up that I'll be coming home earlier than planned. I have to work out an issue with my debit card, but I should be flying back on Thursday evening. I'll call you tomorrow to confirm. A really nice guy offered me the use of his guest room so you can reach me there if my phone isn't working for any reason. His name is Edward Masen. He lives at 2101 East Tanner Street, PH2 here in Chicago and his phone number is XXX-XXX-XXXX. Make sure you finish all your Christmas shopping before I get back so I'm not roped into going out with you. Thanks and I'll talk to you soon!"

She had just hung up when her phone lit up with an incoming call. Alice's face blinked on her screen and she hastily sent the call to voice mail before putting the phone on silent, locking the screen and popping it back into her purse.

"All set?"

"Yep. Lead on, mon capitaine."

"Captain, huh? I seriously doubt the military would accept a degenerate rake like me, but you could be my first mate."

Bella's eyes darted up to his face, shocked by the apparent innuendo. Her face was already burning from her humiliation with the ATM, now her cheeks were positively flaming. He returned her stare with a teasing grin and gestured her through the sliding doors ahead of him. She shook her head, caught between crippling mortification and thinking that it was really nice to have someone flirt with her and not feel like she had to diplomatically put them in their place. Edward was funny, gorgeous and genuinely friendly. Why shouldn't she enjoy herself? She had no obligations to anyone but herself. She had nothing to feel guilty about.

Edward hurried ahead of her and flagged down a cab that had just dropped off a small family, an over-burdened couple with a sleepy looking little boy. The cab driver left the trunk open for them to load their baggage. Moments later they were seated in the cab and pulling away from the terminal. Edward gave the driver his address then turned to her with a hesitant smile. The almost cocky air he adopted in public had morphed into something a bit more shy and tentative.

"So, Bella."

"Yes."

"Short for Isabella?"

"Yes. Isabella Swan. Ironic, I know."

His lips curved up into the sexy smirk that she had already assigned to his 'Casanova' persona. "Not ironic at all. Very fitting, actually."

"Yeah, well. You haven't seen me trip up a flight of stairs, knock over end cap displays at the grocery store or spill coffee on my keyboard three times in a single morning. Poise and grace are not my strong points."

"Do you have an upcoming performance? I'll buy tickets. You can put the proceeds towards your 'credit union hate mail' campaign."

"That's an excellent plan. I deserve to make some money off all the times I've served up laughs to the general public at my own expense. Maybe you could be my manager."

"And choreographer."

"Publicity agent."

"Wardrobe designer."

"Make-up artist."

"Whipping boy."

"What!?"

"If you're into that kind of thing, that is."

"Um. No. At least I don't think so."

"Oh well, it was worth a try."

"You're incorrigible."

"Why yes, yes I am. My mother used to say that all the time. My dad just says I'm a pain in the ass."

"I think I like him already."

"Most women do. He's a hot doctor."

"I can't say I've entertained that particular fantasy. I was into race car drivers as a kid. Something about the helmet, I think. It hides their face. Makes them look mysterious."

"You like guys who drive fast? I think I can work with that."

"Wow, this conversation is already going 15 over. Maybe we should slow down a bit. My dad's a cop. Wouldn't want to get a ticket."

"Point taken. Easing off the gas, applying gentle pressure to the brakes and look, how convenient, here we are!"

Their easy banter and laughter made the time fly. Bella was surprised that they were back in the city already and pulling up in front of an elegant high rise condominium. She didn't realize she was frozen in place with one foot on the ground and one still in the cab until Edward offered her his hand.

"Here let me help you. Rafael will get our bags."

"Rafael. . . right." She cleared her throat uncomfortably. This was no Best Western, that's for sure.

* * *

A/N Thanks so much for reading. Feedback of any kind is always welcome. Also, I don't have a Beta/pre-reader, so if you catch any errors or typos let me know. Thanks! -Maggie


	5. Aerie

The evening had taken a very surreal turn. Bella looked around in shock as Edward towed her through the glass doors and across the lobby. Uniformed doormen, floors polished to the point that they reflected every light fixture in exquisite detail, elevator doors which appeared to be solid slabs of dark-stained walnut. . . She was out of her element here. She was starting to feel _very_ uncomfortable. Who was this guy? Bruce Wayne?

Edward released her hand when they reached the bank of elevators. Bella shoved her hands into her pockets, absentmindedly fidgeting with the ring in her left pocket. The light above the elevator illuminated at the sound of a silvery chime. Bella allowed him to usher her in before him. She turned and leaned against the paneled walls with a sigh. Another elevator ride, but nothing like earlier. Her anxiety came from a much different source. Edward swiped his key fob and typed in a 7 digit code. The doors closed and they began their ascent. Bella closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath. Murphy's Oil, a hint of cigar smoke, and another scent she could not identify; a touch of sweetness and cinnamon and musk. The combination made her head spin.

"You're not talking." Edward looked concerned, maybe even a bit self-conscious. He must have noticed her frantic rubber-necking and bulging eyes when they entered the building. She withdrew her hands from her pockets and glanced up at him with a rueful smile on her lips.

"I think I swallowed my tongue when _Raphael_ took my suitcase," Bella said, trying to restore the atmosphere of lighthearted humor from the cab ride.

"Oh. Right. Raphael has been the lead doorman here since they built the place 4 years ago. And I think he was the lead doorman at a boutique hotel before that. He's enthusiastic. He takes pride in his job, I guess."

"No. You misunderstood me. Raphael seems great. Um, I'm more in shock that you even have a doorman to take your luggage. Where did he go anyway?"

"Freight elevator. It's faster. Our stuff will be there when we-"

_Ding!_

"Aha. Here we are." Edward looked as relieved as she felt to escape the confines of the elevator and the uncomfortable conversation.

_Well, I guess I've really blown the mood now_, thought Bella. She followed Edward meekly down the hall to the left. She felt a bit nervous now that they were here, alone and no longer on neutral territory. This was his turf. She wasn't scared, but she was definitely intimidated. There appeared to be only two apartments on this level. Like the lobby, the floor was polished white marble with meandering veins of slate-gray and jade. A runner of dark, smoky-green carpet ran the length of the hallway and came to a stop in front of double doors. A brass plaque labeled this the entrance to PH2.

_Oh. Penthouse 2. I get it. Duh._

"You have a penthouse apartment?"

"Well, I have a roommate. I don't have the whole thing to myself." Edward sounded almost apologetic. Was he a touch uneasy with the evidence of his own wealth? Or was it just Bella's discomfort rubbing off on him?

He pushed the right-hand door open and ushered her in before him. Sure enough, her luggage was placed next to a table in the entryway. Rafael really was fast. She relaxed her shoulder enough to let her heavy purse slip down until it rested on the floor next to her worn, black JanSport suitcase.

The entry split three ways with a long hallway to the left, a spacious kitchen that featured stainless steel appliances, glass cabinets and fancy track lighting to the right, and before her were two carpeted steps leading down to an enormous living room. Her eyes took in the overstuffed black leather couches, baby grand piano, shelves upon shelves of CDs along one wall and the exterior wall which was one uninterrupted sheet of glass.

"Whoa. That's. . . quite a view." She felt dazed and a little light-headed as she looked out across the harbor; the inky water lit up at random intervals by the lights of ships, yachts and smaller craft. It was like a scene from a dream with alien spaceships dancing in slow motion across a surreal plane, while she looked down on them from her aerie, wrapped in a cocoon of light.

It wasn't winter up here. Instead she was experiencing the perfect balance of warmth and humidity and stillness. She untied her coat and slipped it off her shoulders, barely acknowledging Edward when he took it from her and hung it from a hook near the door. She took several steps toward the wall of windows, captivated by the ballet of lights winking across the black expanse. "So this is how a goldfish feels," Bella sighed.

"Actually, nobody can see in. From the outside, the windows look black whether the lights are on or off. It's a new glass coating the military uses to prevent security leaks from spy satellites and zoom lens cameras while still enabling high-ranking officials to have windows in their homes and offices. It has the added benefit of superior impact resistance. I would explain it to you, but I really have no clue how it works myself."

"Right. You work for the CIA."

He burst out laughing at that; a rich, lighthearted tenor full of sunshine and color. "Nope. Actually, I got my Bachelor's Degree in Architecture and worked for a local architectural design firm before I went back for my MBA five years ago. I'm just a nerd for new materials, so when I heard about it I had to see if they could add it to the plans. It turned out to be pretty lucrative, too. We included some details about it in the marketing materials when we put the first units up for sale and the response was unbelievable. There are a lot of paranoid business executives in the world."

"So you designed this building? That's just. . . I think I'm speechless."

"Don't clam up on me again. I like your voice." His lop-sided smile warmed her almost as much as his laughter.

"You're not answering the question, Edward."

"_I_ didn't design it. I worked on the design _team_. Actually, I was more of a gopher than anything else. Definitely not the lead. But I didn't bring you here to talk about me. We're here because nobody should have to sleep on those hideous chairs at the airport. Let me show you the guestroom and you can tell me what you think."

"Yes!"

"What?"

"Yes, it looks great."

"You haven't even seen it yet!"

"But I have seen this," she said, sweeping her arm wide to include the living area with its nocturnal dream-scape backdrop.

He looked askance at her while scratching the back of his neck. "You want to sleep on the couch? Wouldn't you prefer a bit of privacy?"

"It's more private than being caught snoring and drooling in the middle of the airport."

"You are a master of understatement. But seriously, at least take a look." He adopted a tempting, sing-song voice and beckoned her to follow him back across the room. "It has its own attached bathroom."

"Fine," she sighed dramatically. She shot one more wistful glance out the window before following Edward down the hall. He walked slowly, explaining how they developed the plans for this apartment in a voice that made it clear he loved his job.

"You probably noticed that this floor is split between two units. The floor below us has more internal square footage so we divided it into four units and all the other levels have eight units per floor with a mix of 1-, 2-, and 3-bedroom floor plans. I don't actually own this unit, my employer does. We've found that it's good to have a presence within new buildings as the units sell and the community builds an identity. If there is any problem with exterior or interior finish-work, we have the opportunity to catch it and address it before it becomes a PR nightmare. And, as members of the condominium owner's association, we can glean uncensored feedback from the buyers which we use in future projects. It's also a smart networking move. It takes quite a bit of capital to put up a high-rise and new project partners are always in demand. Normally this kind of perk goes to a higher ranking team-member, but everyone else was pretty well settled in their own homes so they offered it to me."

As he wound down Bella realized that they had come to a stop in front of another doorway. She hadn't been paying attention to her surroundings while he was speaking. It was too easy to be sucked in by the sound of his voice. Soft as velvet and chocolaty smooth. Even when he slipped into his professional voice she got lost in it.

Edward reached around the door frame to flick on the light switch then stepped back to let her enter alone. Her boots sank into the lush ivory rug. She walked to the center of the room before turning slowly in a complete circle to take it all in.

The windows of this room were still prominent, but they didn't take up the entire west wall. Instead, they were framed by traditional molding and dressed with sheer dove-gray curtains. The shoreline stretched out below her, lit up by the glow of city lights and passing cars.

The bed was only a queen sized platform bed. Somehow that surprised her. With the sheer size of the condo and the lush furnishings she had already seen, she expected a bed the size of a ball field in every room. The pillows and linens were an abstract pattern of grays, black and deep, royal purple which managed to tread the line between masculine and feminine perfectly. The furniture was black with simple lines and brushed nickel hardware, giving the room a grounded feeling. It would have been a touch too austere if it weren't for the lighting. Each bedside lamp was shaded with dark fabric which emitted a subtle purple glow. The paintings on the walls were scenes of idyllic country landscapes bathed in a soft pink haze by small LED spotlights. The room hummed with a warm and slightly sensual ambiance.

Two doors, presumably the bathroom and closet, framed a mirror, vanity and padded stool on the south side of the bedroom. Bella glanced back at Edward who was watching her from the doorway with a quiet smile on his lips.

"Are you an interior decorator, too?"

"No, I can't take credit. But our interior design team is pretty fantastic. You should see what they did with Jasper's room. He's my roommate. And you should check out the bathroom. Am I right in assuming your answer is still yes?"

"Hell yes!"

He chuckled at her response. "Then I'll grab your suitcase for you and you can get settled in. Are you still up for pizza?"

"Edward Masen, you are a god among men. Yes. I'm beyond starved. I'll be ready to go in ten minutes."

"My ego likes you. A lot. I'll be right back." He disappeared back down the hallway.

Bella did another complete turn before flopping backwards onto the bed. _Mmmmm. Pillow top. Make that 15 minutes._

* * *

A/N Thanks to everyone who has sent me feedback or posted reviews. I love hearing from readers!


	6. Let's Talk

A/N Sorry for the delay in updating. Computer issues. Enjoy!

* * *

"Knock knock. Hey, um. . . are you conscious?"

"No. Go away. I'm in heaven right now and I don't want to be disturbed."

"Right. I'll just order a pizza in and have them swing by the pearly gates. Do you think Saint Peter tips well?"

Bella tried to ignore the twinge of anxiety when he mentioned ordering pizza. Her mind flashed back to the scared look on the pizza delivery boy's face when she fled Mike's apartment. Suddenly pizza didn't sound so appetizing. "I changed my mind. I'm hungry, but not hungry enough to go back outside. It's too cold. And my feet hurt. These boots are evil. I just need a bowl of Cheerios or Frosted Flakes and I'm good."

"That's cool. I'm getting too old to eat pizza at 10 pm. Heartburn's a bitch. But I'm pretty certain I can do better than cold cereal. Come on. Kick off those boots - which look absolutely gorgeous on you by the way - and meet me out in the kitchen. We'll find you something."

Bella groaned and opened her eyes. Edward had paused in the doorway, his eyes trained on her legs. Bella looked down to realize that her dress had flipped up when she lay down and her legs were exposed from mid-thigh down to where her boots stopped just below the knee. She hadn't intended to flash so much skin and Edward obviously wasn't expecting it either. She looked up again to see him step back out of the room awkwardly with a dusky blush staining his neck and cheeks.

Bella levered herself up onto her elbows and eyed the empty doorway. 24 hours ago she would have known exactly how to handle any romantic advances. If a guy asked her for her number or a date or even flirted too overtly, she would have calmly informed him that she was engaged but was flattered by his interest. The diamond on her ring finger had been a pretty effective deterrent and so she didn't have much cause to practice, but it was very simple and straightforward all the same. Easy. Now she really didn't know how she would respond to a guy being interested in her.

Edward was an attractive guy. Very attractive. 'Socialites in the tabloids' kind of attractive. She felt plain and awkward in comparison. She had no idea what he really thought of her, but his playful flirty words made her think there might be _something_.

Bella pushed herself up to sitting and eased her feet out of her boots and socks. Her toes were stiff and sore from hours of being compressed by the stiff leather. She sniffed self-consciously. And they smelled like she had been wearing boots all day, too.

_Eww. I am not going out there to eat dinner with some hot stranger with stinky feet_, she thought.

Bella padded across the room to investigate the two mystery doors. The first proved to be the most enormous walk in closet she'd ever seen. Having seen Alice's, that was quite a statement. Alice had begged and pleaded with her parents until they finally caved and converted the guest bedroom next to her room into a walk-in closet with an adjoining sewing room where she worked on her own fashion designs. This closet made hers look like a kid's room.

The polished wood organization system was a far cry more sophisticated than her own melamine shelves. The heady scent of cedar permeated the air, dissipating the feeling of lethargy that had stolen over her when she lay down. She counted five mirrors. Her reflection told her that more than her stinky feet needed attention. Flicking off the light switch, she went to check out the other door.

Her jaw dropped a little when she saw the bathroom. She could definitely see why Edward saw it as a selling point. It wasn't too big; in fact, it probably took up less square footage than the closet. However, this space was all about luxury and comfort. Bella felt like she had just walked into a spa. The tub was deep and triangular in shape, taking up the whole corner of the room. The tile shelf behind it held a line of pillar candle in various shades of purple and cream, burned down to different levels. An ornate nickel stand held rolled towels and wash cloths. The shower, encased in glass, sparkled as if it had just been cleaned – or maybe it had never been used. The toilet, discreetly hidden behind a low wall to the left, looked far more complicated than any toilet that had ever supported her bottom while she responded to nature's call.

_First things first_, she thought. _I really need to pee._

Not knowing which chrome button to press when she was finished, Bella tried all three and was rewarded with an unexpected rush of warm water on her nether regions before the water rushed away down however many stories it took to reach the sewers below. She was _not_ prepared for that and had to hold her dress up to keep it dry while she hopped across to the towel stand.

She caught the image of herself in the mirror with her make-up smudged, her hair barely contained in a messy pony tail, her underwear around her ankles and her skirt hiked up around her waist. It was so comical that she couldn't help giggling. So much for dignity.

Bella patted herself dry and straightened her underwear. She really didn't want to risk another geyser so she decided to try out the tub later and just used soap and a fresh wash cloth to clean her feet at the sink.

She hurried back into the bedroom to retrieve her toiletries bag, wondering how long Edward had been waiting. She didn't have time to fix her make-up so she grabbed another towel to scrub her face clean. Her skin felt raw and glowed with a pinkish blush when she was done, but it felt so much better. Her hair was a hopeless snarl and resisted her attempts to brush it out. Instead, she wrapped it into a messy bun on top of her head and stepped back to look herself over.

She still looked like a bit of a mess, but she no longer felt like an emotional train wreck. Her stomach growled reminding her that 'something better than cold cereal' awaited her at the other end of the apartment.

"There you are!" Edward greeted her with a grin when she got to the kitchen. Then he did a double take scanning her from her tousled hair and cosmetic-free face to her bare feet. His face froze and he swallowed visibly. She didn't know what to make of the expression that flitted across his face before he recovered himself and scooted an open beer bottle across the counter towards her. "Drink up and then come over here and help me decide what to cook."

Bella recognized the label on the bottle. It was one of Emmett's favorite micro-brews. "I didn't know they sold this on this side of the Rockies," she said as she raised it to her lips and took an appreciative swallow. Cold and hoppy with just a hint of honey, the beer slid soothingly down her throat. She hadn't realized how thirsty she was.

"What? Oh, yeah. A friend of mine from school lives in Seattle and occasionally sends me a case. We used to drink together and he would constantly complain about the lack of good beer on the east coast. He would begrudgingly drink one or two Heinekens and then switch to water. We all used to tease him about it, but then he started bringing back cases of this every time he went back to Seattle for breaks and got me hooked. I tried to get them to carry it at local shops, but their distribution is too limited."

"In that case, thanks for sharing with me. I'll have to send you more when I get back to Seattle."

"Is that where you were heading? What a coincidence. I was supposed to fly there tonight. Maybe we can hook up whenever my meeting gets rescheduled."

Bella felt her stomach flip when he said 'hook up'. It was perfectly innocent, but the column of nerves that ran from her belly button on down didn't think so. She took another gulp of ice-cold beer to drown the blush she felt rising up her neck.

"You said you are cooking something? What's on the menu?" Edward was standing before an enormous refrigerator with the left door held open. The freezer shelves were loaded with aluminum foil containers. "Holy crow! What is all this? Your mother must love you."

"Actually, this is all Jasper's doing. Cooking is a hobby to him. Of course, there are only two of us, so he usually freezes half of whatever recipe he tries and then we have easy leftovers and don't have to order food. I'm absolutely useless in the kitchen, but I can turn on the oven and set a timer. Oh, here's a good one. He made lasagna with garlic bread last week and it was amazing. How does that sound?"

"I love lasagna. What can I do to help?"

Edward pulled out the appropriate containers, turned on the oven and grinned at her. "Nothing. I've got it all under control. Unless you want another beer."

She was surprised to realize she had already finished the bottle in her hand. "Sure, that would be great." Little alarm bells were going off in her head. Edward was too hot to be single, yet he didn't hesitate to invite a single woman back to his apartment. No man would do that while in a serious relationship. Unless. . . Bella found herself wondering about this Jasper guy. Roommate? What kind of guy would choose cooking as a hobby and stock the freezer with leftovers so their roommate doesn't have to subsist on take-out? And where was he anyway?

Bella climbed onto a bar stool by the high counter and crossed her ankles self-consciously. Edward seemed to be interested in her, but she was getting so many mixed signals from him and from inside her own head that she was thoroughly confused. "Where is your roommate anyway? Will he mind that you have a guest?" There, that was neutral enough.

"He's out of town right now. He's working on his doctorate and travels a lot for his research. It's too bad he isn't here right now. I think he would like you."

"What's he like?"

"Single, straight and handsome."

"Seriously? That's how you describe him when people ask?"

"Well, I thought those are the three things every woman wants to know about a guy she hasn't met."

"We aren't all that shallow. But if that's your impression of what women want, how would you describe yourself?"

"That's not fair. One of them is completely subjective."

"I'm going to ignore the fact that you are comfortable calling your hot roommate but can't even describe yourself. You aren't very good at answering simple questions," Bella teased. She tried to lighten her tone so he wouldn't see how interested she was in his response.

"I said he was handsome, not hot, although I have heard women call him that. But fine. I'm single, straight, and willing to defer to your opinion of my appearance."

Bella pretended to assess him critically with her lips pursed and her head cocked to one side. Tousled bronze hair, piercing green eyes, aristocratic features, broad shoulders and chest, long, lean but muscular arms, hands wrapped gracefully around the beer he was raising to his smirking mouth. She shrugged with a non-committal sound. "Meh. You're okay."

"In that case, so are you," he replied with a playful wink. "Although, since we're on this track, I would love to hear how you describe yourself."

"Straight, single," she was proud that her voice didn't crack when she said it, "and average. Brown hair, brown eyes, clutzy and shy but nice and approachable. For the most part." She tacked the disclaimer on the end, remembering the anger she had felt towards Mike, and later, the ATM. There was definitely the potential for rage and even hatred within her, but it wasn't _her_. Or at least not the dominant part of her.

"No. You're wrong. You are far from average." Bella's eyes shot to his, shocked by the intensity of his tone. She felt her cheeks warm under his gaze and tried to escape it by taking another swig of beer. It was almost two thirds gone. She was grateful when the oven chimed to indicate it had finished pre-heating and he turned away to put the food in and set the timer.

"Come on. Let's put some music on while that cooks." Edward's tone had lost the edge and returned to the warm, playful sound she recognized from their first meeting. She followed him across the living room to check out his wall of music. From the floor to well over her head, the entire wall was covered with shelves of CDs. She couldn't count them but was sure they numbered in the thousands. "What are you into? Classical? Techno? Country? If you can think of it, we probably have it. Jasper and I are both compulsive when it comes to buying new music so our collection is pretty extensive."

"How are they organized? And how do you know whose is whose?"

"By genre and then by group. For the most part. Some things are harder to categorize than others. And it's pretty easy to tell them apart. For example, I would never buy Carly Simon, but Jasper would," he said, pulling out the case to show her. "He's in touch with his feminine side," he explained in a mock whisper.

Bella giggled. "Okay then, what about these?" She held up two identical CDs that sat side by side on the shelf. "His and hers?"

"Actually they're both mine. My mom and a friend from work both got me the same album for my birthday last year and I didn't want to return a gift. That's a really good band, actually. Have you heard of them?"

"Porcupine Tree? No. But they sound prickly."

"Okay, that was too lame to even deserve a response."

"Yeah. I know. I get the corny sense of humor from my dad."

"And do you get your looks from your mom, then?"

"Actually, yeah. I do. She had my eyes and my smile, but I get my hair and complete lack of coordination from my dad. She passed away seven years ago, but I still see her every time I look in the mirror." Bella had a lot of practice telling people about her mother's passing. She was accustomed to the upwelling of regret and loss, but few people gave her the empathetic response that Edward did. He reached across wordlessly and covered her hand with his own. They stood in silence for several heartbeats trading looks of sadness and understanding. Bella again sensed the calm warmth in her chest that she had first felt speaking to him at the airport. It was a feeling that softened her grief and cloaked it in healing acceptance.

Clearing her throat, she withdrew her hand and returned her attention to the case in his hand. "So. Porcupine Tree? What are they like? Are they a new group? I've never even heard of them."

"Think Pink Floyd but with a more modern rock vibe. They're good. They're a British band and they've been around since I was a kid, but they don't get a lot of attention in the States. They've got a great sound and aren't afraid of taking risks with their music. Do you want to try them?"

"Sure," she agreed enthusiastically.

Edward popped the CD into the multi-disc player and made some adjustments to the sound. The first chord jumped out strong yet mellow before fading, leaving her breathless and waiting for more. Edward settled himself cross-legged in the middle of the floor.

"What are you doing?" Bella asked.

"Listening. Here, pull up a bit of carpet and try it. Actually, it's better with the lights off." Edward jumped to his feet and crossed to a panel near the front door where he turned off all the lights except one strip of small spotlights above the refrigerator.

Bella was impressed by the view before, but now the windows seemed to expand above and around her. She felt encapsulated by the water, sky and stars. The first song of the album was short, like a prelude, setting the tone for a clash of drum hits and guitar riffs. Lying down on the carpet next to Edward, Bella felt the enormity of the world around and below her. As the second track began, driving arrows of charged sound through her head and heart, she pushed away the hurt and confusion, fear and anger of the day and just immersed herself in the music. She did not fall asleep, but she was no longer in the room. She was lost in harmony and a heartbeat not her own.

She came back to herself to realize that the lights were on again and Edward was nudging her with his toe. The smell of tomato sauce, garlic and bubbling cheese ignited her appetite. Edward was grinning at her, holding out a hand to help her as she clambered awkwardly to her feet.

"Dinner is served."

For the third time tonight Bella was stunned into wordless awe. Edward might claim to be hopeless in the kitchen, but he had obviously been taught how to set a table. The lasagna sat in the center of the table, still bubbling and steaming. He had assembled a simple Caesar Salad with shredded Parmesan cheese and croutons and cut up a loaf of perfectly browned garlic bread into rough chunks. Two freshly opened beers marked their spots and Bella eagerly sat down to eat.

"You're going to have to carry me back to bed because there is no way I'm leaving this table until I've eaten so much I can't walk."

"Anytime," he chuckled as he heaped an enormous portion onto each plate.

Bella alternated between forkfuls of the saucy entrée and bites of salad to cool her mouth. She burned her tongue and palate but didn't care, opting to douse the pain in more ice-cold beer.

"Hey. Slow down there, tiger. You don't need to inhale it. I'm not going to take it away."

"You have no idea how hungry I was. And this is insanely good. Does Jasper have a tip jar because he is an absolutely phenomenal chef!"

"I know. That's why I keep him," Edward joked and he too was shoveling enormous bites into his mouth.

Bella thought she probably looked like an animal and was acting too base to be attractive, but the warmth and humor she felt with Edward didn't allow for self consciousness.

Conversation was non-existent through their first helping, but as the food built a comfortable knot of energy in her tummy, Bella slowed down and began to look around the apartment. She realized there were many details she missed in her initial distracted state. Now she saw the electric fireplace on the opposite wall from the entertainment center. The mantel piece above it held several framed photos. Above the mantel hung a mosaic of colored glass pieces suspended in a web of silver wire. The image was unclear at first, but then she was able to pick out the impression of a ship tossed about by waves of grey and blue glass.

Edward noticed the direction of her focus. "My mom made that. She sculpts sometimes, but her real passion is mosaics. She acts like a complete lunatic during yard sale season, hurrying around the suburbs collected chipped pots and discarded plates and glassware. Somehow she makes gorgeous pieces out of garbage."

"It's incredible. You have to stare so long to really figure it out that you end up immersed in the image, like you are on the ship and about to be tossed overboard. She has incredible talent."

"Thanks, I'll tell her you said that. She doesn't enter her work in galleries or anything. They are mostly gifts for friends or clients. The compliment will mean a lot to her. I fell in love with that one so she gave Mr. Bleddell of the Chicago Symphony a purple orchid made from glazed flower pot pieces instead."

"Lucky you. And now you're an architect. It sounds like artistic abilities run in the family."

"I guess so. I prefer to draw. Buildings, or course. Sometimes I want to get away from the light table, rulers and calculator, or in many cases the computer, so I pull out a sketch pad and charcoal. It helps me stay in touch with the beauty of architecture so it's not just work. Seattle has some truly stunning buildings, especially the older houses on Capitol Hill and Queen Anne. Next time I'm there, if it isn't raining, I'll have to take a chair and easel outside and spend some time sketching."

"Put a hat out and you could earn a few bucks, too."

"Ha. Right."

Bella saw several framed sketched leaned up against the wall next to a table. The frames and style looked familiar. "Are those yours?" she asked as she got up to take a closer look.

"Yeah. It's part of a series I did for a local firm. I tried to capture images of all the most recognizable buildings in the city, but those ones didn't turn out so well. I have no idea what to do with them."

"Can I take one? They're gorgeous!" Her heart had quickened. She knew exactly where she had seen these sketches – in the common area at Mike's apartment building. So many coincidences. . . What did it mean? She wanted to take something tangible with her so it would still feel real when she got home.

"Sure. And thanks. My ego likes you even more." He retrieved the duplicate Porcupine CD from the shelf. "And you can have this, too, if you like them."

"Thanks, Edward," she said, speaking his name for the first time. His answering smile lit up his face.


End file.
